Home Forever
by Catherine Spark
Summary: Stephanie's stay is nearing its end...until a tragedy occurs. We also find out the story behind the origins of Sportacus's slightly better than average skills!
1. Chapter 1

**Home Forever**

She was curled up on her bed, writing her diary.

"_Dear diary, I'm going home in two days time. I've really enjoyed my two weeks here, and I've made so many friends. One especially. I'm pretty sad to be going, but I think I'll enjoy hearing about Mum and Dad's adventures in Greece, and seeing my friends from school, and sleeping in my own room…"_

There was a knock at her door. Sportacus came in, and Stephanie's face lit up. Then she saw that he was very grim and sorrowful. Her heart stopped. "What?" She began to feel extremely afraid as he sat down on the bed beside her, sad, sympathetic. "Your uncle asked me to come and see you. I'm sorry, but I have bad news." Her heart began to thump through her temples, and she braced herself. "It's about your parents. Stephanie, I don't really know how to say this, but there was a plane crash." He paused, and drew breath. "I'm afraid they were killed."

Stephanie's face grew white, as a hot rush of electricity rushed from her spine to her skull, and her head felt as though it would explode. He gently supported her shoulders to stop her fainting. Slowly her face crumpled and creased into a silent wail, before she broke into gasping, heaving, hysterical sobs. Instinctively, and without a word, he put his arms around her and lifted her easily onto his knee where he held her close, stroking her hair and rocking her.

He would hold her for an hour, for ten hours, for as long as she needed him to.

It came to him suddenly that his life was changed forever – from now on he would love her as if she were his own daughter; he would watch over the town obsessively, just in case she needed him. He would make sure he was always there to protect her and for her to confide in, day and night, sun and rain, and that she had loyal friends to play with, and wonderful birthdays and Christmases. She had always dreamed of going to dance school when she was older. Well, he would do everything in his power to get her into the best one in the world, if she still wanted it then.

But first she needed him just to keep his arms around her and listen to her jumbled thoughts, her sobbing confessions and her desperate denial. After an hour she sat hiccupping, staring off into space. He turned her towards the window so she could see out, and opened it so the gentle, cool wind could ruffle her hair and the flower scents could waft their healing into her room.

****

Miss Busybody was not much better than her uncle, she thought, as the woman scurried, fetching spray and clips to secure her pink hair under the black hat, so that it didn't show at the funeral. Miss Busybody chatted about all sorts of things, things that had no importance, that she didn't want to hear. She longed to just curl up in bed, but she forced herself to keep on – it would break Sportacus's heart if she locked herself away and lost faith in the world.

She thought of her parents' soft, warm bed, smelling of lavender, into which she crawled so often to doze between them in the early morning. She thought of her mother sitting her at the piano and teaching her how to play "Oh Can You Wash A Sailor's Shirt?". She thought of her father coming home from work, picking her up and swinging her around. She thought of how her mother would bake her rock scones to take to school and colour them pink specially. She thought of her father teaching her baseball outside on the lawn. And last, she thought of how, just before they had put her on the train, her father had said "Take care Sweetie," and her mother had added "We can all swap stories when you get back!" And as her train had plunged into the tunnel, they disappeared. Forever.

"All done! A work of art, though I say so myself…" Miss Busybody turned Stephanie's head, yanking at her hair by mistake, to look in the mirror. Stephanie had the grace to smile and say thank you, before she started off to her uncle's house where a new black dress, tights, cardigan and shoes were waiting. "Poor baby," Miss Busybody murmured as she saw Stephanie, looking so alone and lost, disappearing down the garden path and through the gate.

****

She and her uncle took the train to the city for the funeral.

When she saw the coffins, she felt physically sick inside. She wanted to rush to the bathroom as her stomach churned, but she closed her eyes and held down the nausea. She tried to imagine her parents in there, side by side at the alter. The image eluded her, and she sat down shakily.

The vicar was a good man, she could tell. They sat in their pew as the weather grew hotter and hotter, listening to the eulogy, but he didn't know her parents very well. She could tell by the inflections of his voice that most of the endearing things he said about them had been direct quotes from friends and family.

They walked with the hearse to the graveyard. The sun beat down, and she began to feel very thirsty. Despite the heavy ache of grief in her belly and chest, she began to wish the whole thing was over so that she could have something cold to drink and go home…to LazyTown. Once at the cemetery, her uncle took her hand, and they joined her four grandparents. They were all given a rope. Stephanie didn't know what to do exactly, but copied the others as the two coffins, one after another, were slowly lowered into the ground. She didn't hear the vicar as he gave the blessing. She was too absorbed in a mental waterfall of memories, and anger at God for taking them both from her.

****

"Stephanie," her aunt said, smiling down at her, "I'm so sorry for your loss. It's a terrible thing to lose anyone close. But I hope you've been enjoying your stay at your uncle's. Your Mum and Dad would have wanted that". Stephanie avoided her aunt's gaze, but tried to smile and nod. "You'll be going back to school sometime soon then," Stephanie turned away and wandered off.

When she returned a few minutes later, she heard her aunt saying, frantically, "But Milford, you can't possibly expect her to travel all this way to school!"

"Of course not," her uncle replied, "She'll be going to school in LazyTown."

"But you know nothing about children, especially a girl! The whole thing is ridiculous. I think everything would be much better if _I_ took her in – it's much nearer to her old school and her _real _friends."

"No…!" Stephanie didn't mean to say it, and it came out as a whisper, but her aunt turned to her. "Please Uncle, I want to stay in LazyTown." She paused, and, fighting back tears, "Let me stay…"

"Stephanie darling, you're not thinking properly…" her uncle suddenly cut in sharply. "Stephanie will stay in LazyTown!" Stephanie's head jerked up sharply, as relief dared to flood through her. "She has loyal friends who love her, and I won't hear of her going anywhere else."

"You were great, Uncle Milford", she exclaimed, as he hurried her away towards the train station. "Er…Was I? I didn't…I mean…thank you…well, let's…get on the train…" Still the same old bag of nerves then. A small but genuine smile spread briefly across her face. Her uncle put his arm around her, as they saw the train emerge from the tunnel.

****


	2. Chapter 2

**SUGAR MELT-DOWNS AND SPORTS CANDY**

One morning a few weeks later, Sportacus was drinking a healthy shake when his crystal beeped. "Someone's in trouble!" He jumped into the driver's seat and pedalled his craft towards the town. When he was low enough he launched himself out the door and down. He back-flipped over a wall and found Stephanie crying on a bench on the other side.

Full of concern, Sportacus sat down beside her. "Do you want to talk about it Stephanie?" he asked, gently. She shook her head, and he put his hand on her shoulder and sat with her quietly, until she raised her head. "Trixie said something mean and I…I don't know, I just got really upset! When I went away I heard her say that I should get over Mum and Dad and…and…" she rocked miserably.

"…And you'll never get over them, will you?" Sportacus finished quietly. Stephanie shook her head. "I'm lots better at hiding it – I'm even dancing again. When Ziggy or Robbie does something ridiculous I laugh – I really do, and I still think the world is so beautiful and fun. It's just that I always wish Mum and Dad were still alive to enjoy it."

"I wish your Mum and Dad were still alive too," Sportacus reflected.

There was silence as they both contemplated. Then Stephanie spoke up.

"Do you have parents, Sportacus?" He grinned,

"Yes, they live on an island in the North Sea."

"Has anyone that you loved ever died?" He shook his head.

"I've not had that happen – yet."

"Why do awful things happen, do you think?"

Sportacus paused, then smiled wryly, "I don't know. It's a mystery we can't solve. But," he added, looking her in the eye, "Difficult things often grow a person."

"What do you mean?" The tears had dried from Stephanie's face, and curiosity now replaced them.

"The most difficult thing in my life made me who I am."

"Will you tell me?"

He paused, "Do you really want to know? I mean _really_?"

"Yes!"

He glanced around furtively. "You'd better come up to my airship and I'll tell you there."

Her face lit up. "Really?" He stood up.

"Jump on my back". Stephanie hopped a couple of times and then managed to cling on, koala style. "Hang on tight, we're climbing up!"

Most people would have squeezed their eyes tight shut. Stephanie didn't want to miss a second. She saw for the first time that the town was in an almost perfect circle. The clouds were level with them. 'If this was the last thing they saw,' she thought to herself, 'Then I'm happy it was beautiful'. The white platform they stood on rose into the aircraft, and Stephanie tilted back her head to look at the curving white ceiling, the many touch pads on the floor, the cupboard outlines on the wall, and the light streaming from the pilot's window. No wonder Sportacus was always so happy – it was like living in a sky-castle! Sportacus disappeared and she stepped cautiously on a touch pad. No response. She jumped with both feet, and there was a sliding noise; a table swung down, with a rack full of SportsCandy at one end. She tried another touch pad and a bed appeared.

Just then Sportacus re-appeared, looking totally different from his usual self: He wore a T-shirt and jeans. She gasped. He laughed. "I need the top and the bottom garments to be separate if I'm to tell you my story!" This didn't make sense, so she waited. He sat down beside her and began to tell his story:

****

When I was just little, I wasn't sporty at all. My favourite thing to do was to read stories. I went to school, but I didn't like it because I was teased. Finally my parents decided to home-school me, because the teasing was getting so bad. I didn't like to eat SportsCandy – just real candy. I never played outside because I was so clumsy.

Everything changed one day when I was eight years old, like you. I started to feel sick and tired all the time. I drank a lot of water which meant I always had to rush to the bathroom. I got really skinny. One day I was reading, drinking cola and eating mars bars. The next thing I remember is waking up in hospital. My mother told me afterwards it was as if I was in a deep sleep – she couldn't wake me, and my body was like a rag doll. My parents ran with me to the hospital. I was very sick indeed.

Lying in the hospital I worked out the times I felt worse were always when I missed a meal or when I ate a lot of sugar. Later I told the doctor and she said I was right. She said I had a thing called type 1 diabetes, and that all my life I would have to be careful what I ate, when I ate, and take special care of my body. I had to have injections of a special medicine called insulin to stop me going into a sugar melt-down, and I needed to eat the right amounts of the right kinds of food at the same time every day. I also needed to get up and go to bed at strict times too. I had to check how much sugar was in my blood so I could avoid a sugar melt-down. If there was too little sugar, I had to have something sweet. If there was too much sugar, I had to have extra insulin. But most importantly of all, I had to move and exercise.

My mother and father were very worried about me. They bought lots of books about type 1 diabetes and they had to remind me all the time when to have insulin and when to have sugar, to go to bed, to get up, to have a meal. It was very difficult at first. But then…I started moving!

I found loved dodge ball, and I made new friends by playing it. I also learned gymnastics and started practicing my moves for several hours at a time. It was hard at first and I was very slow and clumsy, but I practiced and I got much better. My type 1 diabetes got better too – my sugar meltdowns got less and less, until the only time I had them was from eating something with a lot of sugar in it. My parents told me I was a hero, and called me their little Sportacus. That's my name now!

****

"Wow!" Stephanie was smiling. "You're a _real _superhero, Sportacus! So because you got ill you learned to exercise and sleep well and eat good!"

"I did. Something bad that changed my life forever made me who I am. Without that I wouldn't be saving people like I am today."

She frowned. "So what happened then? When did you get cured?" Sportacus smiled broadly and lifted up his T-shirt slightly. Attached to his abdomen by surgical tape was a small, round disk. A thin tube led off the disk into the large "S" clip on his belt. Further round was a separate disk also stuck on with tape. This disk however sported a tiny, winking light. "That's my sensor," he explained, "To tell me how much sugar is in my blood. And the one with the tube gets information from the sensor and gives me the right amount of insulin. Then I am healthy and I have energy to save people!" He bounced onto his feet and ran up the wall, ending in a flip backwards, and finally a one-armed press-up.

"And _that's _why you call apples SportsCandy, and why they make you strong!!"

"Yes! I take one _everywhere_…just in case I need a bit more sugar!"

"And why you got really ill when Robbie gave you that candy apple!"

"Yes!"

"But why did you have to bring me up here before you told me?"

His eyes and expression darkened. "Robbie Rotten thinks I don't know when he's spying, and he _has_ caught me out before. He doesn't understand that his actions affect people other than himself. If he found out about it, he might try and use it to take my energy away, and that could kill me. Stephanie, I know I can trust you to keep it a secret, even from the other kids."

She nodded. "You can count on me, Sportacus."

"I know!"

They grinned at each other, and impulsively, she threw her arms around his neck. "You're the best friend ever!"

"So are you!"

****


End file.
